Scawed
Something made me open my eyes; I stared into the dark and was instantly disoriented. This was because I didn’t know where I was.
Then I remembered.
My mind reeled back to LaTanya and Bradon, with the addition of Brent and Derek, all coming over with some of my clothes, makeup and toiletries, doing the best they could with the hand they were dealt. Mitch, by this time, wisely had started plying me with wine. LaTanya, Derek and Brent gave me hugs and hung out for a glass of wine and to ascertain I wasn’t going to have a nervous breakdown. Then Mitch talked me into getting ready for bed at the same time declaring in Mitch Firm Voice that I was sleeping in his while he slept on the couch. The very thought of this freaked me out though I tried not to let it show and I did this by arguing feebly with him.
My arguments were weak because I’d witnessed the devastation of my apartment, sobbed in his arms and agreed to temporarily move in with the man I was secretly in love with at the same time trying to get out of my life and I’d had two glasses of wine. I was in no shape for anything but bed. Even arguing with Mitch which I had proven I could do even exhausted. And anyway, I rarely won an argument with Mitch so what was the point further exhausting myself by going whole hog?
Not to mention the fact that LaTanya and Derek, Bray and Brent were watching Mitch and my byplay with undisguised fascination. This, of course, freaked me out more.
So I gave in and went to Mitch’s master bath, did my before sleep prep of face cleansing, teeth brushing and moisturizing and then I went to Mitch’s room, sucked in a calming breath and crawled into his huge, very cool bed.
Mitch’s bedroom was much like his living room and, after perusal, the rest of his apartment which included kickass stools around his bar and an absolutely gorgeous and utterly unique wood and steel dining room table. His bedroom furniture was made of wood so dark it was nearly black; it was handsome, heavy and fabulous. He had a tall bureau and a midnight blue club chair with ottoman in front of it, floor lamp and table at the side all in the corner of his bedroom that screamed at you to curl up, relax for long hours and read.
His bed was the best part about the room. A sleigh bed with rolled footboard and high, rolled headboard it had wine-colored sheets and a fluffy comforter covered in stripes that had a background of a mushroom with multi-width lines of wine, midnight blue, forest green, black and warm brown.
The whole bed was awesome (though, he really needed the Spring Deluxe, his mattresses were okay but they weren’t Spring Deluxe). In fact, the whole apartment was awesome.
If I didn’t know Mitch I would think firstly, he was on the take and secondly, he was g*y.
But I didn’t reckon g*y guys kissed women like that and I couldn’t imagine that Mitch was on the take.
As I lay in his bed in the dark in the middle of the night, I tensed because I felt, weirdly, something was not right
I stayed quiet and still and listened. Then I went solid as the door to Mitch’s bedroom opened.
Shit!
“Mara?” It was Mitch.
I moved, pushing up to sitting and twisted toward the light. I turned it on and Mitch was standing in the doorway, Billie held to his chest, her little girl arms wrapped tight around his neck, her little girl legs wrapped tight around his waist and she was visibly trembling.
My eyes moved to Mitch. “What’s the matter? Is she sick?”
Mitch moved into the room. “Nope. Scared,” he answered, walked to the bed and sat on its edge, arranging Billie in his lap but I watched with troubled eyes as she fought this, it seemed, because it threatened to disconnect her hold on Mitch and she only settled when he did. Then his eyes captured mine. “Not a little, Mara. A lot,” he said quietly.
He didn’t have to tell me that. I saw it and it was freaking me out.
“Baby,” I whispered to Billie, scooting across the bed toward them. When I got close, I did what I could to wind my body around Mitch’s and Billie’s, lifted my hand and stroked her back. I dipped my head to hers. “What’s the matter, sweetie?”
“I’m scawed,” she whispered, not pronouncing her “r” which was something she’d done when she was little but conquered more recently.
“What are you scared of, honey?” Mitch asked gently.
Billie didn’t answer, she just burrowed deeper into him and I saw his arms grow tighter.
“Billie, honey, I’m here, your Auntie Mara’s here, we’re right here. You’re safe. What are you scared of?” Mitch whispered.
“Bad man coming to get Daddy, coming to get Billy, coming to get me,” Billie replied, her voice trembling.
I tipped my head back and my eyes sought Mitch’s only to see his eyes were already on me.
“What bad man, Billie?” I asked my cousin, my eyes not leaving Mitch.
“Bad man that’s after Daddy,” she answered, her voice small and still trembling.
Crap.